


Catalyst

by havent_got_a_clue



Category: Criminal Minds, Psych
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, First Kiss, First Time, Jealousy, M/M, Sex, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Threesome - M/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Voyeurism, vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-08
Updated: 2010-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:12:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havent_got_a_clue/pseuds/havent_got_a_clue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The BAU is called in to assist the SBPD with a taxing case and Lassiter, as per usual, falls for the handsome feds with whom he's forced to work. Sexual tension comes to a head and there's an angry yet cathartic threesome in a bathroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catalyst

**Author's Note:**

> for my darling Authormichals!

He notices Reid at the sink splashing water on his face. He uses some of it to push his hair back and Lassiter wants to snort because he's a damned fed and if he had any respect for the badge, he'd cut it regulation length and that's that, but eyes closed and dripping water, Reid creates quite the distraction and suddenly he can't think of anything but what that hair would feel like brushing against his chest.

"Detective." Reid adjusts his collar and dries his hands on scratchy city issued paper towels. He wants to say more, to tell him he knows the attention is misdirected, to warn him against try to fool a profiler, but it's attention and there is a direct correlation between the number of PhDs he has and the number of people who approach him for anything non-academic.

"Dr. Reid." Lassiter adjusts his tie and stares at the man in the mirror who clearly needs sleep and a grip on reality and definitely needs to stop thinking of the boy as a way to get to Hotchner, because innocent, vulnerable, and corruptible as he is, he's a human being and, oh god, he's staring right at Lassiter like he wants him to say something else and he is not not not biting his lip and not not not looking even more in need of a good fucking.

Lassiter blinks, but his eyes stay shut just a fraction more than they should and now he knows he's given everything away to Dr. Reid, PhD, PhD, PhD, and quite possibly PhD.

He can't look at Reid now. He can't see the drop of water just hanging off his chin, just begging to be licked off. He can't see Reid's long fingers smoothing out the front of his shirt and lower.

"We should probably get back in there. Hotch is all alone." Filler. Nervousness. Awkward in social situations. Something to hide.

Lassiter knows he's got about 3 more denials in him before he can't justify them anymore and he doesn't want to waste them and a good dose of reality might do him well right about now.

"Hotchner...uh...are you-," but it dies in his throat.

Reid makes for the door, clearing his throat. He pushes at his hair again and looks back.

"He would never...not with me...if I wanted to." And the kid can get kind of get to the point at last. Reid looks down, trying to hide regret at admitting that much. And he's biting his lip again, still not noticing how his team and Lassiter's react to it. How he could miss how Hotchner stares at him, how protective he is of him, how possessive he is of him, Lassiter will never know.

"He's a fool."

"Pardon?" Reid cocks his head, fingers still on the handle, but Lassiter hears the latch click back into place. The damned hair is back in his face again, but Reid seems frozen, wanting Lassiter to say more, to tell him he was joking.

"Hotchner's a fool...," but he doesn't know how to finish it. Either way perches him precariously on a thin line and he's not sure he's ready to cross either side of it. Carlton licks his lips, buying him an extra second.

"Hotchner's a fool if he doesn't notice the way you look at him." The safe way out. Hotchner's a fool if he doesn't make a move on you.

Reid's mouth quirks upward as he squints. "And you notice the way I look at him? How much time do you spend watching my every move, detective?" His face says he meant it jokingly, but Lassiter still blushes and looks away.

"Hotch is a...dynamic man, detective. I'm not ashamed, but I don't dwell on it, either. I've come to terms with the terms of our relationship and, statistically, it's better if things stay strictly professional. He has no such unspoken agreement with those outside the team, though. I'm not blind, detective."

"As you said, he is a dynamic man. But he failed the usual litmus test the moment he shut down Shawn Spencer. You can probably gather he's not accustomed to people saying no to him." No one has moved yet. Reid's hand is still on the handle like he's still planning a quick getaway. Lassiter is leaning against the counter top, failing at casual.

"Carlton, he's propositioned every member of my team at some point today. We've all said no unless he's gotten to Garcia in the last hour. She's the only one with whom he could get anywhere and that's only if he likes phone sex. We're...kind of a different breed here. Hotch would sooner say yes to an unsub." Carlton can't argue with that logic. A profiler would be able to see right through the crap that he tolerates and rest of the SBPD seems to worship.

"Shawn's hit on you?" Absolutely shameless, that man.

"I think he proposed a 'team-building exercise' with Emily and me and him and he air-quoted the words and winked. Unless he's got some innocent meaning behind that...I think I was near the bottom of the list, though.'"

Reid said no to Spencer. Hotchner said no to Spencer. He won't deny the gloating thrill that surges through him with this new information. He also won't deny that while Reid turned down Spencer, Carlton's not sure Reid would give him the same answer if he tried, given that Reid trailed off and is looking in the general direction of Lassiter's chest and it doesn't take a profiler to know that Reid is looking for some kind of reassurance and what in the hell has this boy gone through to make him so insecure?

"Reid-"

"I'm not his type, anyway. He needs a leader as much as I do, but not for the same reasons. It's ok that I was next to last on his to-do list. Really. It doesn't offend me. I just don't like that kind of--" Reid's speeding up with every sentence, dangerously close to rambling.

Leader. That's his in. No one that smart doesn't choose his words carefully.

"Reid." He tries again, this time latching on to a wrist that's been getting closer and closer to wildly gesturing. "Look. I know Spencer. He probably just made his way from the front of the station to the back. But, you're right about him not being your type. If he didn't find a way to make you on a very short list, he's just as much a fool as Hotchner is."

Reid is frozen. Lassiter tightens his grip on Reid's wrist, wanting to make a mark, wanting Hotchner to know it was he who gave it to him. Hotchner protects Reid, keeps him to himself without marking his territory, and Carlton won't pretend he doesn't see the glares he gets when he gets too close to Reid's personal space, even in innocence. If this is the impetus behind this dick measuring contest in which they seem to be locked, then Dr. Spencer Reid is going to go down as the spoils of war. Carlton is going to use the kid to his full advantage, of which there are many.

Reid doesn't try to pull away. Lassiter can feel the boy's pulse pounding away, belying his otherwise dead stillness. What breath he might need lies in wait in his chest and eyes wide, not yet looking Carlton in the eyes.

Carlton has to make a move. He could go either way still. He can back out.

Ultimately, he doesn't, instead knocking Reid out of his trance by throwing him up against the laminate covered counter top and, releasing his grip on Reid's wrist only to take a harder one on lean upper arms. Lassiter's pretty sure he's shocked the hell out of Reid, but he's surprised when Reid doesn't protest the angry kiss that follows.

"You idiot! Do you KNOW how much Hotchner wants you? He keeps you all to himself and expects you to stay without a reward like an abused dog and you TAKE IT?" He's punctuating the angry words with kisses, each one more bruising than the last and Reid is giving back as well as he's taking it.

"And what are you offering, detective? Are you offering me some kind of reward? Are you offering me this right now?"

Reid's mouth is as hot as his words as he bites near Lassiter's jawline, hands twisting like fast growing vines, pushing at fabric, gripping it, releasing it, not quite aware of how they are giving away everything he's feeling. Lassiter threads his fingers through that long hair and keeps Reid at neck level, letting his breath rush over sensitive skin.

"Tell me you don't deserve this, Reid. Tell me you don't want it. Hotchner calls and you are at his feet and you never expect anything in return, do you? You want it. Look at you. I'm not even him and you're begging me for it. I'm not Hotchner, no, but I'm not going to make jump for me without giving something in return." Tilting Reid's head up, he gently kisses him, using it as a distraction to test the waters.

Reid's wearing as many layers as he has PhDs, but warm, smooth skin makes it worth it to make it past all of them. Reid hitches a breath when Lassiter runs a tentative finger across his stomach to the edge of worn courderoy. He can feel Reid tighten and it's enough to make Carlton pull away, but Reid clutches wildly at his hand and pulls him back to him, closing what little gap there had been before.

Lassiter can't help but feel protective; he understands now why the rest of the BAU treats Reid the way they do. He wants to fuck Reid until he can't walk and then nurse him back to health and kill anyone who teases him for walking with a slight limp in between that.

The kid probably shops in the boys' section, but there's still enough space between skin and fabric to slip a hand down as far as Reid will let him go. His eyes are closed and Carlton knows Hotchner is on his mind, on both their minds, but it's not stopping Carlton and Reid's not saying no. His fingers wrap around Reid firmly as he cups his jaw with the other hand, forcing him to look at Carlton.

It's pain and pleasure and want and disgust in those brown eyes he tries to avert from Carlton, biting his lip and tightening his grip on Lassiter's shoulders. Carlton wants to make this kid feel what it's like to be wanted and what Hotch should have given them both. Down in this ground floor, dimly lit, and rarely cleaned to department standards bathroom, the chance of someone walking in on them is small and Hotchner is waiting for both of them to come back and isn't this his loss that two people who want him so much are bonding over it like this, but Lassiter can't bring himself to care about either of those things or what could happen to his pants when he takes his hand out and falls to the floor in front of Reid, staying in perfect control as he unfastens buttons, shoves aside fabric, and looks to Reid for one more sign of approval.

"I won't unless you want it."

"S'okay. Please." Reid breathes it out, like he's unsure if Lassiter wants it as much as he does.

"You're gonna close your eyes and think it's Hotchner. I know. It's ok. I can be that for you right now. I can be that version of him you want him to be. What do you want me to do? Tell me what you want him to do to you, say to you. Let me be that for you. Tell me what he would say to you." Before Reid can answer, Carlton gives him a chance to temper his thoughts as he pushes forward that last inch and lets Reid slip past his lips. Reid can barely manage a "Hhhh" before steadying himself, grabbing the edge of the counter top, arching as best he can without choking Lassiter.

"He'd say, 'get away from him. He's not yours.'"

Lassiter hadn't heard Hotchner come in; he probably went looking for them when they took so long to come back. He should snap to attention, shield Reid from the oncoming anger, but he just...doesn't. Years from now, when recalling this moment, he'll never be able to recall what exactly went through his head, and he'll never know exactly why he did it, but Carlton Lassiter, tosses out the utmost respect he has for feds and, in a moment Shawn Spencer would be proud of, continues sucking off Reid for a full ten seconds before lazily releasing him, turning his head to a staring, not breathing Aaron Hotchner and, as if he isn't already going to be on the receiving end of some serious personal and professional trouble if someone rats him out, looks him right in the eyes and dares him. "Make me."

The stare down lasts exactly 5 seconds before Lassiter realizes that Hotchner is not going to attempt to knock him out or even off Reid, so he decides if Hotchner is going to continue staring like that, he might as well enjoy the show.

He looks up at Reid, who has lost what little color he ever had, but he's not looking at Hotchner. He's looking at Lassiter and his fingers are still gripping the edge of the counter and he pushes ever so slightly into Lassiter and yes, they are going to do this even with an audience. Or do it for the audience.

Lassiter makes a show of continuing his work; this time making just a little more noise and gripping hips just a little harder and making his movements just a little bigger. Reid's not slow on the uptake and he can hear sharp breath intakes and low moans on the releases, hips rolling in time with Lassiter's ministrations.

"Reid..." Hotchner's voice is low; a warning.

"What, Hotch? I waited for you. I did everything you have ever asked and you wait until someone shows an interest in me to realize it?"

Lassiter pulls back and stands up, covering up exposed skin, giving Reid the dignity he needs to finally stand up to Hotchner.

"I've pretty much given up on you, Hotch." The little shit run his hands over his front, pretending to smooth out his clothes but in reality highlighting that the arrival of Hotchner hasn't ruined his mood.

"Reid, as your superior…I…we could never…really…of COURSE I want to, Spencer…." Lassiter holds back a snort because Hotchner's insistence is a hairsbreadth and at least twenty years of maturity away from one of Shawn's outbursts of "DUUUH."

Lassiter senses the upcoming angst and tries to turn the situation to his ultimate advantage. What would Spencer do? And he hopes that Spencer only enters his mind so much right now as a reminder of how reckless he is being. Sure enough, Hotchner runs a hand through his hair with a greedy look in his eye. It doesn't take a hardened detective or a psychic to see that Hotchner's going to try to gain his own advantage and Lassiter does not want to be in the crossfire if he's not in control.

Carlton looks Hotchner in the eye and grips Reid's shoulders, turning him to position him between the two. He kisses Reid fast and hard and then pushes him off, guiding him to Hotchner, trapping Reid between them, yanking his head back by his hair and downright challenging Hotchner to try to protect him while he's like this and he knows there is no way Hotchner could have missed the moan as it happened and he wants Hotchner to attack Reid right now with him holding Reid still.

He's got his other arm draped across Reid's chest and he doesn't care that he looks like he's holding Reid hostage, because he just might be, and doesn't that just turn on Aaron Hotchner. Hotchner's eyes go wide and his hands flex at his sides and Lassiter knows he wants this and he'll owe Lassiter for this gift, for getting Reid worked up and for getting both of them to admit they want each other.

He can feel Reid's chest heave in and out but Hotchner's not making a move. Damned propriety. He's staring at Reid's neck and he's sweating and he still won't take the final step. Carlton can't take it anymore and tilts his head down to kiss whatever parts of Reid's neck he can get to, still never taking his eyes off Hotchner. Reid lets out a surprised, "Oh," that dissolves into a low moan and Hotchner's so keyed up he looks like he will explode.

"Hotchner, I'm handing him to you like this. He wants this. I want this. Look at you; you want this, too. So either lock the fucking door or get. The fuck. Out."

 

And that's all he needs to drive Hotchner over the edge. Reid would be slammed hard enough into the wall to make an impression if it weren't for Carlton holding him steady. Hotchner splays his fingers across Reid's jaw and Carlton takes a chance and covers his hand with his own, reaching to grip his wrist and Hotchner god damned growls at the new contact, pressing against Reid even closer to him, assaulting his mouth angrily, moaning into it, curling his fingers against his skin to leave what will be nasty marks needing at least a week's worth of high necked shirts to cover them.

Reid accepts the abuse and settles his head into Carlton's neck, giving Aaron full access while still giving Carlton something to do. Carlton sucks and nips at warm skin and Reid eventually turns to kiss Carlton, Aaron fumbling below them to get those fucking buttons undone.

With collarbone exposed, Reid once again turns to Aaron and pushes at his jacket, motioning Carlton to do the same. He complies and starts to untie his tie, but Reid's hand at the knot stops him and Reid tugs on it and Carlton sees he is doing the same to Hotchner, pulling them both closer, like dogs on leashes.

"I'm not doing this with you two fighting like you have been. I'm only a reward if you two make up." Reid's hands curl into the fabric, coyly wrapping it to take in the slack as he pulls.

"Kiss him, Hotch. I wanna see it." He's still gripping their ties, breathing like he's he's terrified but trying to look confident and in charge of this new situation. His voice only cracks once. "Show me."

Hotch leans into Reid and kisses him possessively, rough, before Reid pulls away and backs up so the two sparring men face each other. He never takes his hands off the two other men as Hotch breathes in and tentatively takes Carlton's face in his hands and it's fleeting and experimental and then lips touch, hot breath and dry skin, unsure but all for Reid and then for each other as it's all tongues and lips and heat after that, hands roaming, two, four, a hissing "yesssss," of approval, buttons undone, and the war is forgotten.

Lassiter breaks it off to kiss Reid once again, letting him taste the mix of the two before passing him off to Hotchner again, who takes the initiative to start undressing Reid, inviting Carlton to join in, alternately stripping him and kissing the new parts he finds. Carlton stands behind Reid and runs hands over his chest, trailing over the most sensitive parts to watch the goosebumps rise as Hotchner gently removes the rest of his clothing and now they have a stark naked Spencer Reid, ready and willing for a thorough debauching.

It's a flurry of lips on neck, chest, stomach, and finally Aaron is on the floor, knees on the hard ground, not caring about the suit, lips wrapped around Reid and it's a beautiful sight to Carlton-insanely brown eyes looking up at the both of them, lips red from stretching, Reid's chest heaving with every thrust into Hotchner's mouth. Carlton holds him steady and grinds his still fully clothed crotch into Reid's ass, trying to gain some relief.

Reid cocks his head back. "Do it, Carlton. Please."

He tugs on Hotchner to bring him upright and now he's sliding his pants to the floor, stupidly limber body going with it, taking Aaron in and looking Carlton in the eyes like the next move is his, but it's Hotchner who pulls him over, fumbling as best he can to even up the clothing score, kissing him hard and gasping into him whenever Reid mixes it up a bit with his tongue and Carlton wants to fuck Reid more than anything else in the world right now and Reid must see the desperation because he stops working on Hotchner to suck off Carlton, letting him fuck his mouth with wet heat until Carlton is going to absolutely explode if he doesn't let go. Carlton grabs Reid's hair and pushes him back to Aaron, which earns him a growl from Aaron at reclaiming the contact.

Carlton falls in behind Reid and pulls that ass up so he's on all fours. He slowly works Reid open with fingers and spit, savouring each little moan and gasp as he does. One last pull on his hips and he's pushing himself in and Aaron is watching everything even as he's got his hands clamped around Reid's head.

He's trying to be gentle. Fuck. He's losing. He's going to break Reid; every thrust is harder, faster, and if there's some unspoken race between him and Hotchner to come last, he's going to lose that, too.

Reid's not helping with the way he's moving his hips in time with the thrusts, swaying and grinding and tightening all the right muscles, but the cry from Hotchner, the way he closes his eyes and throws his head back, he's gone and it's ultimately the sight of him that sends Lassiter into his own orgasm, fingers squeezing bruises onto Reid's flesh, crying out as he arches his back, keeping himself as far in as he can.

After a moment to catch his breath, Lassiter pulls out and Aaron hoists Reid up. They kiss long and almost tenderly and it's not escaped anyone's attention that Reid had not come. Aaron kisses to Reid's ear and even in the quiet of the bathroom, the blood still rushing in Carlton's ears drowns out most of it of the murmur, but Reid hisses, "God, yes," and pushes Aaron down so he can finish him off. Lassiter does not want to be a spectator in this and does his best to help Reid get off, sucking at nipples, biting at earlobes, and kissing him roughly.

It's not long before his long body is stretched out even more, tense and moaning, holding onto Hotchner's head and gasping, watching Hotchner take it all in. He collapses slightly and Aaron pulls off, standing up to kiss Lassiter and Reid one last time before redressing. Reid and Lassiter take his cue and quickly pull on their clothes, straightening up ties and vests and glasses and trying not to look like they just a had a surprise threeway in a bathroom.

It's awkward, like it should be after something like this, and Lassiter knows Hotchner and Reid will continue this alone later, in their hotel, while Lassiter is sitting in Tom Blair's wondering what the hell he just did, but there is a kidnapper to find and there is no doubt someone is looking for at least one of them by this point, so they retreat back to the office, one by one, leaving the bathroom as empty as it was when they came in.

 

In the 3rd stall, legs numb from trying to plan a sneak attack and squatting over the bowl to hide his feet, gelled hair and a green polo leans against the door. 45 minutes he waited for Spencer Reid in this bathroom. He had paid for a extra extra grande orange pineapple juice and had given it to Reid knowing that he'd eventually have to go. He'd set up camp in here, a man with a plan. A plan that got shot to hell when Lassie walked in.


End file.
